The Exuberant and The Unexplainable
by ChiharuSato22
Summary: Sasori has always had a feeling...it takes spending some time alone with Deidara-the first time in a long, long time-to finally grasp them. Somehow, he thinks he's always known. SasorixDeidara YAOI


At the most inopportune times, he found himself wondering. No, he was _always_ wondering. It was nearly a force of habit, by now. Every time he had nothing preoccupying his thoughts, they would wander to this all-too-familiar train of thought. Why did he think of Deidara like that?

He knew that he and Deidara were partners—companions, even—but, surely, nothing more. Really, it was ridiculous to even contemplate closer relations between the two of them. After all, comradery was already a risk. Emotions and attachments were useless in this line of work. If anything, they were a burden and would only hinder his performance as a shinobi—as a member of the Akatsuki. Despite being well aware of that, he couldn't rid himself of these pointless feelings. Not only that, they were wearing him out quickly. He could tell by how lacklustre his performance had been as of late. Something inside him that was just nagging at the back of his mind told him that it was all worth it.

He had promised the idiotic blonde that they would have just one day free if they completed their mission early. Sure enough, with the right motivation, Deidara had managed to get the job done rather quickly—well, much faster than expected. So, left with no other choice, Sasori had booked them a place at a nearby inn (Oh, how Kakuzu was going to hate him for this.) for the night. Despite being an S-ranked criminal and being known for killing a Kazekage and abandoning Sunagakure as his home, he had instilled in him since childhood that one had to always keep their promises. It didn't matter to whom the promise had been made—a promise was a promise. Still, knowing the cheerful expression that would form on the blonde's face as he skipped down the street urging Sasori to hurry up made it almost worth it. It nearly made him forget how much Kakuzu was going to lecture him for this. The innocent happiness that could be found in Deidara reminded Sasori that the boy really was only a child. Well, to Sasori, he was only a child. Sasori was, now, around the age of forty or so (It wasn't as though he could remember.) whereas Deidara was probably only around the age of eighteen. Sometimes, the age difference of about twenty years did bother Sasori. Though, it wasn't as if it mattered. They were both adults, after all.

Now looking for that vagabond of a shinobi, he had begun his search along the riverbank knowing that the boy enjoyed watching the cherry blossoms at this season and, even if the pink blossoms were not in bloom, he enjoyed the soothing calm that only a river could offer. As expected, he found the blonde strolling alone the path beside the riverbank occasionally stopping to admire the flowers that adorned the trees that ran alongside the river. Sasori found himself regarding the usually hyper blonde in a different light. In this place, Deidara seemed at peace and, dare he say it, _beautiful_. Sasori bit his lip after that thought had enterred and left his mind. Surely, he couldn't be thinking such out-of-place thoughts concerning this blonde. How could it have happened, anyway? Before he could even begin to consider the possible reasons, Deidara saw him and ran over to him.

"Danna!" the boy called out eagerly, "There you are, un!"

Sasori grunted in acknowledgement. "I got us a room." he said gruffly, covering up a smile when he saw Deidara's clear blue eyes light up with a childish excitement.

"Thank you so much, Danna, un!" said blonde squealed gleefully, "I love you, un!"

Sasori stopped walking for a moment, feeling his heart skip a beat. Once again, though, he could find no explanation for these peculiar reactions. Well, he could find no explanation the stubborn redhead was willing to accept. Still, despite knowing this and finding no rhyme nor reason for it, Sasori could not suppress the smile that had made itself at home on Sasori's lips—mercilessly tugging at the ungiving corners of his lips.

Sasori grunted again. This time, it was in affirmation.

Deidara ran ahead, tugging at Sasori's sleeve for him to do the same. Though, Sasori had decided to take his own, comfortable pace which irked Deidara who was far too excited for his own good.

"Come on, Danna, un!" Deidara whined loudly, giving Sasori's arm a long, firm pull, "I want to sleep on a _bed_, un!" After hearing this, Sasori sighed, shaking his head. This was typically Deidara. It was that child-like twinkle in those crystalline eyes that had managed to bring cheer to the glum organization that was the Akatsuki that had attracted Sasori. Had he really thought those thoughts? He was attracted to the blonde? More confused than ever, Sasori's face, no longer masked by apathy, formed a puzzled expression accompanied by a visible crease in his forehead. Though, Sasori noted, the blonde didn't notice. Quickly, the expression was covered up expertly.

Upon arriving at the small inn, Sasori went to the front desk and presented the forged identification Pein had made for them. "My name is Kaori," Sasori took a deep breath here, remembering the name written on the documents, "Kaori Shinji. I'll be staying tonight with my," Again, there was slight hesitation. "_traveling companion_, Hoshino." Deidara stood quietly next to him waiting for their names to be checked off of the guest list.

After a few minutes, the innkeeper found their names in the book. "Oh, of course!" the girl announced happily, standing up and gesturing for the pair to follow her, "Come with me, please. Your room is right this way."

Sasori nodded, motioning for Deidara to come with him. Deidara grinned up at him, keeping close behind.

The girl stopped and pointed to a room with the number "104" labelled clearly in plain sight. "This is your room, sir." She was speaking to Sasori. "I hope you and your friend enjoy your stay." She then proceeded to hand him the keys and left without so much as another word.

Sasori looked up at Deidara then back at the set of keys in his hands before finally deciding to unlock the door. Promptly after the door had been swung open, Deidara took a running leap onto the bed which had caught Sasori off guard. He showed no signs of interest, though. The two beds were more accomodating than Kakuzu's meager budget had gotten them before. Though, he had to admit, the beds seemed more reminiscent of cots than proper beds. It wasn't as though he minded. So long as he wasn't cooped up with Deidara in one small bed, he was happy. But, now that he thought about it, he might not have minded that so much.

_Again with these thoughts!_ he mentally chided himself for being so silly. Now was not the time and place for such things—in fact, he wasn't sure if there was ever going to be a time and place for thoughts like these. Despite the mission being completed, it didn't mean they could drop their guard just yet. After all, the ANBU had a nasty habit of knowing exactly when they had dropped their guard to strike. So, quite obviously, that was not an option. No matter what, they had to make sure they got back safely. He couldn't quite say the same about Deidara not "dropping his guard", though. Said blonde had already passed out on the bed.

Grumbling, Sasori found himself unable to resist the urge to stare mindlessly at the other. For some reason, the way the boy's chest moved up and down so slowly as he breathed and the warm, rosy colour that tinted his cheeks seemed so unfathomably interesting. Unfathomable was right, though. He couldn't explain or understand the odd way he had been acting around Deidara lately. Not only his actions, though, he couldn't explain those incoherent thoughts of him and those incessant urges to touch that seemingly silky blonde hair or any other part of the boy, for that matter. He hadn't a choice, though. These feelings had to be irradicated like any other feelings or emotions he might have felt towards anyone else. He had done it with any other emotions so, surely, he could do it with these trivial ones. It might not be so easy, though. After all, he was still staring at Deidara.

---

It had been several hours into the evening and Deidara was still sleeping like a log on the, as Sasori had deemed it, uncomfortable and ridiculously cheep cot trying to pass as a bed. He had been up working on Hiruko's joints though the slowly dimming light due to the setting sun wasn't making that much of an option any longer. He didn't want to turn on the lights in fear of disturbing Deidara's slumber. Still, he continued to work on the puppet as he listened to Deidara's gentle breathing. Somehow, that soothed his impatience and flaring temper to a mild hum in his mind. It was a nice feeling, he had to admit. Of course, he would never tell Deidara. He could only imagine how much the blonde would mock him. Though, if he considered it carefully, that wasn't quite a reality. It would have seemed endearing as many things did to Deidara. Still, he couldn't tell him. It was just simiply impossible and that was that. After all, once Sasori had made up his mind he wasn't one to change it easily or at all. You see, he had strong beliefs. And, no matter what, stood by them—like his idea of what true art and true beauty was.

That thought had reminded him that, though he believed he would be here forever, Deidara wouldn't. It was a shame, really. But, he knew the blonde would never give up his belief that art was fleeting beauty—like the explosions he loved so much or fireworks, even. Sasori knew that, somehow, it was what made Deidara so special and contributed to his free-spirited beauty. He wasn't like Sasori who worked fine in darkness and in a closed room. Deidara needed light and the open, blue sky. They were polar opposites in almost every single way Sasori could think of. And, Sasori didn't mind. In fact, it only made Deidara's company more enjoyable. Though, he could never tell him that—of course not.

By now, Sasori had realized that the sun had painted the previously blue-gray sky into an pinkish, orange crimson. Intrigued, he gazed out the window to watch. It was then that Deidara stirred, yawning and stretching as he sat up. "What time is it, Danna, un?" the blonde asked quietly, bringing attention back to himself.

Sasori turned to him, giving a disinterested huff. "I don't know, brat. If you need more sleep, just go back to sleep." "Brat" had been something Sasori had affectionately nicknamed Deidara. Really, he could find no other word to describe his overly cheery personality which was directly in contrast to Sasori who wasn't even overtly "cheery".

Deidara grumbled unhappily, "That's not the problem, Danna, un." He pointed at his stomach. "I'm hungry, un."

Sasori groaned, standing up. Sometimes, it annoyed him how the boy needed. Sasori himself was a puppet and had no need for such luxuries but Deidara, being human, did. For him, they weren't so much luxuries as needs, though. Sasori could care less. Really, Sasori _did_ care about the blonde but, sometimes, he just annoyed him—nearly everything about him, did. Sasori was like that, though. He wouldn't change on some whim.

"We'll go in town and see if we can find something, alright?" To that, the blonde nodded. Sasori still sounded annoyed though, really, he wasn't any longer. "We need to change into something else, though, alright? If we walk around in our ninja geer, the ANBU will have no problem spotting us."

Deidara laughed, brushing a lock of hair back. "Good call, Danna, un. I'm going to go change into something more..._normal_, un." Before Sasori could say anything in protest (not that he would), Deidara had gone to the bathroom with a bundel in his arms. Sasori was left to change in the main bedroom. He didn't mind, really. Now, he just had to find something his wings wouldn't shred through as he moved and would cover up his puppet joints. As he searched around the nearly empty room, something told him that finding dinner was going to be troublesome.

---

It turned out that there was a festival going on in this small town and, to their surprise, food stalls were _everywhere_. It pleased Deidara greatly and relieved Sasori.

Since they couldn't wear their normal clothing, they had opted for something simpler and lighter. After all, despite the need to hide weapons, they had to blend in with the other citizens. If anything, Deidara seemed to fit in easier than Sasori who seemed a bit awkward in his get-up. In fact, Sasori looked rather like a child and Deidara like a parent with the pretenses of their ages being dropped. Deidara, oblivious as per usual, hadn't really noticed it (or didn't care for it). But, it bugged Sasori.

As they went from stall to stall, Deidara noted that Sasori only seemed to be getting grumpier. In a vain attempt to cheer his Danna up, Deidara grabbed Sasori's arm and dragged him over to a stall selling masks for the festivities. It was some sort of animal-oriented festival, they both presumed.

"Look at that, un!" Deidara said as he pointed to a mask near the bottom of the rack. "It's pretty, isn't it, un?"

Sasori glanced at the mask and agreed that it was pretty. Cracking a half-smile, he replied, "Yes, I suppose it is."

Deidara smiled at him. "Don't be grouchy, un. We have a night free so let's enjoy it, okay, un?" Sasori nodded, deciding to loosen up. It wasn't a big deal, anyway. Sometimes, Sasori found himself absolutely perplexed as to what in the world could make the blonde so happy. Sure, he had his moments but, usually, he was absolutely (sometimes, to a fault) optimistic. It was a quality Sasori envied, at times.

Despite being full, Deidara insisted they have a look around during the festival. And, besides, he had also mentioned wanting to wait to see the fireworks that they would have once it got dark enough. Deidara liked fireworks much like he liked explosions and bombs. They were, essentially, of the same nature. They were bright, colourful, and momentary. After that one moment, they would be gone forever. No one firework or explosion was like the other—much like snowflakes—none were the same. It wasn't an appreciation Sasori had but he could vaguely understand Deidara's love of these incessantly loud, overly exaggerated, flashy, colourful lights. It was yet another opposite he and Diedara shared. While Sasori found art in eternity, Deidara's viewpoint was exactly the opposite. Whatever brought about these polar opinions was definitely something else altogether.

Once the darkness had settled in and nearly everybody had found seats at the bottom of the hill where the best view of the fireworks could be seen, Sasori and Deidara had finally decided to head over and take their own seats to wait for the show.

"Say," Sasori started, unsure of just what he was going to say, "why are you always so happy?" It was an awkward question but it was the first thing that had come to mind.

Deidara shrugged. "Am I really, un?" he brought forth another question.

Sasori confirmed it. "Yes, you are." He only received another shrug and the conversation was discarded.

A few moments later, the first fireworks went up. It was brilliant and white. Deidara was standing up and cheering loudly. Then, the next one went up and another and another. Pretty soon, the two were completely captivated. Sasori had never thought of these things as art before but, maybe, they were. Still, he refused to believe it was _true_ art. After all, he stood behind his own beliefs no matter how he felt towards someone.

Sasori had always had a gentle smile. Even now, as he watched Deidara so inexplicably happy, he bore the same placid smile. It wasn't warm and friendly and, if anything, it was slightly eery. Deidara didn't seem to mind, though. It was something only the blonde could do—ignore the obvious. It was a special talent, as Sasori called it in one of his many sarcastic comments. Of course, the far-too-chipper Deidara always took it literally. It wasn't as though he was stupid. Of course, the blonde wasn't stupid. It was simply because he _chose_ to take it literally and _chose_ to ignore unhappy things. It was strange but, for him, it worked. How that was, Sasori would never understand.

The two sat motionlessly on the hill directly below the fireworks display. Around them, there were people chattering and watching the show. But, Sasori couldn't hear them. He was far too caught up in the moment. He watched in awe as a firework, mimicking a shooting star, shot across te sky as though joining the sparkling points that were stars. In that same moment, he saw it explode into a vibrant explosion of colour—flairing bright yellow and orange. As the lights fell, his gaze fell to Deidara's still form. The sight that met his eyes was equally as captivating. He could no longer move his eyes from Deidara. The boy sat below the exploding lights, his body aglow with all different hues of colour from said explosions. With each and every one of them, Sasori saw something twinkle in Deidara's eyes. It was reminiscent of the sparkle that appeared in Sasori's eyes when he worked with puppets and the sparkle that appeared in Deidara's eyes as he sculpted and blew things up. In that moment, Deidara looked unimaginably beautiful. _No_, Sasori corrected himself, finally coming to a conclusion as to these strange new emotions stirring within himself, _he has always been beautiful...and always will be beautiful._ A true smile crept across his face, bringing a new light to his eyes, as well.

His hand reached over to Deidara's as though wanting to grab it and hold it just to feel the warmth he expected to be radiating from it. He could feel warmth tingling in his heart and the urge to speak was ever present but he could not finds words to say—he could find no words to convey these feelings of his.

Unexpectedly, Deidara suddenly turned around to face Sasori. "Is something wrong, Danna, un?" he asked quietly. Sasori almost didn't hear him above all the noise.

But, the second that had happened, all the noise disappeared and he could no longer hear anything else. His world had crashed—the walls he had built around him cracked and crumbled. The thought that these feelings were a _good_ thing were immediately dismissed as well. It was because that moment was too real. It was because, in that one moment, he remember everything—his responsibility to the Akatsuki; his promise to never feel the pain of loss again; the thought that he _would_ lose Deidara, regardless; the oath he took to never feel again—it all became real again..._too_ real. If Sasori had not forgotten how to cry, or rather, trained himself never to cry again, he would have.

"Danna, un...?" Deidara tried to find an answer, desperately searching in Sasori's eyes for some sign of an explanation—an explanation for that expression of horror and pain that had overtaken Sasori's usually passive face. Really, a normal person would not have noticed, but Deidara, having spent excessive amounts of time with him, could see it—he could see raw emotion that he wasn't used to Sasori having.

Sasori was drowning in those deep blue eyes—Deidara's deep blue eyes. He was irrationally lost in them—unexplainably drawn to those sparkling, crystalline eyes. Something in his heart broke—a part of the ice he had forced it to become melted. There were no words for this feeling. If there were any, they had long since died in his throat.

Almost unconsciously, Sasori gently picked up the hand that was Deidara's that he had meant to grasp and brought it up to his cheek, carressing it gently. He then gave Deidara the first real smile Deidara had ever seen of his.

Still, despite the smile on Sasori's face, Deidara could feel sadness eminating from that which was Sasori's very being. What was making him so uncharacteristically sad? Why was it _now_ of all times that this had happened? Did it have to do with the fireworks? Or was it, maybe, the village itself? Had something happened here? Had something really happened _at all_? Questions flew through Deidara's mind but he could find no answer to any of these inquiries.

It was then that Sasori brought his conclusion to surface in his mind. He was in love with Deidara. It was simple and plain as daylight. He really thought himself a fool for not seeing it but, really, he had chosen not to see this obvious truth all along.

The smile faded as quickly as it had come to be. And, with it, Deidara's hand was set away. Confused, Deidara opened his mouth to question. Sasori put a finger of his mouth, silencing him. It was a symbol of understanding—he hoped Deidara understood. But, Deidara didn't. More confused than ever, Deidara pulled Sasori's hand away and spit out his question, "Danna, what's wrong, un?!" The tone of his voice came out more alarmed than it had meant to be. But, it wasn't unwarranted worry. Sasori had never been like this—he had never been, in any sense, _emtional_. Not only was this new, it was downright _abnormal_. Of course, he had to admit that he appreciated some emotion in his Danna but it was the sadness that he could not understand.

"Come," Sasori muttered, standing up, "let's go back now, Deidara." For once, Sasori had used his actual name. Though, Deidara paid that no mind.

Unnoticed until now, the fireworks show had finished and people had already deserted the area. Not only were the fireworks over, but the moment was, too. Perhaps, art really was fleeting as this had been—a fleeting beauty; a fleeting moment. And, as a note of finality or of sympathy to Sasori's lack of tears, it began to rain—the sky was crying.

---

It had been, what seemed like, hours since they had returned home. Neither of them were asleep despite how late it was and despite how dark it was. They had fallen into an absolutely, dreadfully awkward silence.

Deidara was lying in the bed, eyes open because it made no difference whether they were opened or closed—it was pitch black, either way. That aside, he couldn't fall asleep. The mystery that was Sasori being sad was still bothering him.

Sasori, on the other hand, sat bolt upright at the desk in the room, elbows resting on it and head buried in his hands. He bit back sobs—dry sobs, though, for he could not cry, lest you forget. Those sobs were of remorse. After doing that (that being holding Deidara's hand), he could never get rid of these feelings. And, he knew that—thus, the remorse. Of course, as it had recently struck Sasori, he realized that he would _never_ rid himself of these feelings _regardless_. Something told him that these weren't something that could be gotten rid of. After all, love (he cringed upon admitting this—particularly that word) wasn't a trivial thing.

Suddenly, Sasori felt something warm crawling across his shoulders and making its way to where his heart resided but stopping right above it. He felt a soft breath on the nape of his neck. Undoubtedly, it was Deidara's. Deidara had his arms draping over Sasori's shoulders—dangling just above his heart—and his face buried in his neck.

"Danna," Deidara whimpered, "tell me...what's wrong, un?" Sasori's breath hitched when he felt something moist and cold fall to his neck. Deidara had been crying and he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had not noticed.

"Deidara..." Again, he had used his name. Oh, how he loved that name. He continued after taking a deep breath, "why are you crying...?" His voice trailed slightly as he finished the sentence—he felt another droplet fall.

Deidara sniffled, wiping the tears. "I'm not crying, un." he said in protest—it was a feeble attempt, really. Sasori didn't try to correct him. Instead, he let him finish. "It's just that...you're sad and you won't tell me why, un. You're never sad, Danna, un." Between every few words, Sasori heard a sniffle or Deidara choking back sobs.

Sasori closed his eyes, not turning around. Besides, it wasn't as though he could see a thing in the darkness. "I'm not sad, Deidara." He sighed. "I'm just...everything feels so bittersweet right now."

Deidara had stopped crying—a relief to Sasori. "What do you mean by 'everything', un?" he asked quietly.

Sasori didn't answer—he couldn't answer. Slowly, he freed himself from Deidara's hold and got out of the chair. He took Deidara's hand in his own, but not in the same manner as previously, and guided him towards the bed. There, the two sat down and fell into a companionable moment of silence soon broken by a flash of lightning followed by a loud crack of thunder. Not expecting that, Deidara shook a bit in shock.

Sasori could see Deidara's form in the light cast by the lightning. He could now hear the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the roof and the windows, the rain having now begun falling in torrents. Still, it was Deidara that caught his attention. There was something that he could never quiet place about the boy that he had first noticed until now—the boy was fragile, even more so than glass. He was a boy who was always appeared ecstatically happy but always looked so fragile that made him appear like, if you touched him, he would break. Sasori had seen him through his share of battles and knew that he was a capable fighter. However, despite that all, he still looked so frail. He was thin—far from built. He wasn't like Kisame, he was small, almost to feminine proportions. His skin was pale, not like a ghost, it was still warm and soft to the touch, but still pale, nonetheless. He had these blue eyes that could always look hurt—as if he did it by will which, Sasori knew well, he didn't. He had long blonde hair and, when sleeping, it spread out like an angel's halo—he was an angel, Sasori's angel. The only way he could have looked more angelic is if he put on a white gown and grew a pair of wings.

The boy was...breakable—it took Sasori's breath away, everything about him. And, Sasori could no longer resist the urge he had been fighting. Complying to his forbidden desires, he leaned forward and pulled Deidara into an embrace. He could feel his heart jump again.

Deidara shivered, moving closer but still questioning, "Danna, un?"

"I'm sorry, Deidara..." Sasori whispered. Really, he could no longer hide it. And, he wasn't going to waste the precious time he had with Deidara hiding it. Leaning forward, he capture Deidara' lips in a slow, chaste kiss. The look of fear that flickered past Deidara's eyes was the most unforgiving thing, though—more unforgiving that the thought that Sasori would lose this boy or the thought that he might no longer be able to perform his duties to the Akatsuki well enough.

Deidara lookws flabbergasted—violated. He, violently, shoved Sasori away, wiping his mouth. "Danna, un!" he cried out, tears brimming again in his already swollen, red eyes.

All Sasori could do to hide his shame was to look away. The sound of a slap echoed in the room, or so it seemed—the sound of Deidara slapping Sasori. Sasori could feel it on his cheek—he could feel it stinging—he could also feel it in his heart—he could feel the seering pain consuming his heart.

"I hate you, Danna, un..." Deidara murmured, "That...you stole my first kiss, un..."

Sasori buried his heart momentarily, replying, "And you stole my heart."

Deidara's eyes widened, Sasori needed no light to know—he always knew. "That..." he started, not finding words to complete the sentence—he had finally understood the pain in Sasori's eyes.

A cold laugh came out of Sasori on its own. "That's right." a voice Sasori hardly recognized as his own said to Deidara, "You finally figured it out, brat?" He was only hurting Deidara more. But, he couldn't stop himself—his instincts took over. He had to block out the source of this pain; he had to bury his heart deeper in the abyss; he couldn't let himself be hurt again—he was crying inside.

"I'm sorr—" Deidara began but was rudely interrupted.

Sasori growled, "I don't want your pity." Having said that, Sasori stormed out of the main room and locked himself in the bathroom. It was childish really, but he didn't care, at the time. He fumbled around blindly for the light switch. Upon finding it, he turned it on and sank to the floor in a helpless heap of limbs and parts. It was hisonly way of "breaking down", so to speak. Really, he could find no other way to open up himself (figuratively, of course. Literally, speaking, he would have had no problem doing so).

There was loud rapping on the door, as expected, it was, without a doubt, Deidara. "Danna, un! Come out, please, un!" The urgency in the voice did not go unnoticed. Still, though...

"Shut up!" Sasori hissed, "Go away!"

Deidara's let out some non-committal sound (almost like a whine) and replied, "Danna! I'm sorry, un! Just...please come out, un...I think we should talk this over, un..."

Sasori pulled his legs up to his chest, tapping a finger against his knee in irritation. "There's nothing to talk about." he whispered, "I love you but...you don't feel the same." His voice grew louder at the last sentence. "So, leave me _alone_!"

Deidara was hurt by Sasori's brash words. He knew that Sasori hadn't meant them, but that didn't mean that they weren't painful. They had stung like a blade—no, worse, as emotional pain hurt more than anything physical pain could bring to rival it. His crystalline blue eyes were glowing even more, now, with a new light only brought on by the onslaught of tears that had begun to fall. Despite them, his voice remained strong and unwavering. Still, not knowing what other way to get Sasori to understand, he pulled a pin out of his hair with only one intention in mind—picking the lock.

It had grown silent and Sasori knew something was wrong—not only because Deidara wasn't one for silence. He heard the sound of the lock clicking and the hinges of the door creaked open hesitatntly. He said nothing. "Danna..." Deidara started, inhaling sharply to buy himself time to sort through his thoughts, "It...might seem strange to you, but..." He sighed, his voice trailing. "I do know what it feels like...to love someone, though." At this point, Sasori found himself feeling jealous of whoever that person might be. A pause hung stagnant in the air before the conversation continued. "And...that person is _you_, Danna, un..."

Sasori's ears perked up upon hearing that, and he turned his head to see Deidara. Though, the remainder of his face was hidden in his arms, still.

Deidara smiled at him. "I...just never considered it before, un..." Truthfully, that was a lie. He had always considered it a possiblity. Though, like Sasori, he had never acknowledged it. He, being more honest to himself, though, had, _much_ earlier, figured this out himself. He had just been, shall we say, in shock earlier. Really, he had always imagined himself being the one to confess or nothing ever happening at all. And, he had never expected Sasori to feel the same. Never mind that, he had never even though Sasori to think of such things—such things as love. In fact, he had never thought Sasori one capable of expressing or feeling anything remotely similar. So, it had really been a shock for him and, in the end, he had ended up _hurting_ his Danna (which he was immensely sorry for).

Sasori smiled to himself, unmoving, still. "Come here, then." he murmured. Deidara gulped, shifting forward towards Sasori. In a movement so quick that it was impossible to see through the human eye, Sasori grabbed Deidara by the shoulders and pulled him into a fierce kiss—there was far more lust this time, though, now that Deidara thought about it, it had to be impending from pent-up emotion. Deidara felt something warm invade his mouth which he quickly identified as Sasori's tongue. The passion exploded in a flurry of movements—their hands moved quickly, reachign everywhere and anywhere in reach in a desperate attempt to feel the other's being to know that this was _real_ and not a dream.

As the two slowly parted, they came to a silent but unanimous decision—it was real, no matter how surreal it seemed. They smiled awkwardly to one another trying to mask how impossibly pleased with themselves they were. Somehow, Deidara found himself unable to stop smiling. And, as for Sasori, he, being the more stoic one, managed to keep a passive face, though, that was all it was.

Deidara sighed in relief, letting his shoulders relax. Sasori, on the other hand, raised a brow in curiosity. His curiosity would be one to be unsated, though, for Deidara gave no sign of noticing. He nudged Deidaras shoulder lightly with knuckles which, he found, were limp. And, to add to that, Deidara simply collapsed onto the floor had, or would have had Sasori not moved in the way to catch him. Startled, Sasori quickly turned the boy over to check his breathing which, thankfully, he was. Deidara wore a contented smile on his lips, his eyes closed. Sasori shook his head upon seeing this, chuckling to himself. Deidara had fallen asleep. Gently, he stroked the blonde's hair and decided to bring him back to bed. Slowly and as carefully as he could manage, he picked Deidara up and carried him oer to his bed, aying him on the mattress before pulling the blanket over his body. Happy with that, he went to his own bed and allowed himself some sleep. It wasn't as though he needed any, it was just a luxury. In order to sleep, though, he would have to close his eyes, which he did, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut. Relaxed and completely comfortable, he fell victim to slumber.

Before sleep took over, though, Sasori had one final thought—perhaps love wasn't as painful as he thought. Though, he concluded, as negative as the thought was, he, being logical, knew he would have to deal with the loss of Deidara eventually for Deidara would not last forever. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, wanting to forget. Instead, he thought of Deidara's gentle smile and his equally gentle laugh, his sparkling blue eyes, his creamy skin, and his golden blonde hair and found solace in it and able to fall asleep. Though, another conclusion he drew, he thought that best. It was best he sleep, now.

"_Art is fleeting—it is a moment in time that can never be repeated for nothing can ever be the same. Love is an art in itself."_

**Author's Note:**

A little gift for _writersneversleep_ (on dA) and _SkyeFox_ (on dA) I hope it's..bearable to read.

**Reviews are made of love. Please give love.**

**Deidara:** That's what she says, un...

**Sasori: **Hn.

**Deidara: **Why do you always say that, un?

**Sasori: **Why do you always say 'un'?

_**-Deidara & Sasori** begin to quarrel over the simplest of things**-**_

**Me: **-_shakes head at them_- What can I say? ...Of course, I hope the OOCness (out of character...ness) was not too unbearable. Enjoyed it? Please tell me what you thought of it. (Gosh, I'm just whoring the review box, aren't I? -_looks in said box_- Definitely...)


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